


What the...?

by malfoyisme



Category: Demon of the Underground, Demon of the Underground (Webcomic)
Genre: Drama & Romance, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Have fun with this shit anyways, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I realize some of this is inaccurate, M/M, Mystery, dance, lmao I pieced together the belmont and merritt thing a tad too late today, whoops, y'all can handle it, you put up with the britney spears and dancing so whatever
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2018-12-24 01:28:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 17,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12002073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malfoyisme/pseuds/malfoyisme
Summary: After Pogo's bleeding back incident, things begin to change dramatically in the East Sphere of the Underground.





	1. Cross to Bear

**Author's Note:**

> I've been following DOTU for about 8 months now, and it's been fucking amazing. Shoutout to Bob for creating this wonderful comic! Pls if you found me by chance, check out her work, I love it and I'm certain you will, too!

"Wake up." Floated in a familiar voice...was that, Jordana?

 

Pogo blinked.  _Fuck._

 

He shut his eyes again, processing the room. His entire back was covered in a floral-scented, oozy blood which could only have come from one source...His demon. Ever since

Father Lawrence decided to be a dick, and possess him, Pogo had been drugging himself nightly to avoid the painful nightmares and the blood. His mom may have been a

bitch, yes, but ugh, blood sure was nasty. If only she and Lawrence would stop showing up in his dreams. Pogo wished to himself that any _other_ body fluids could be

covered in him whenever he woke up...maybe one in particular. Especially those of a really hot King with dreads...Hmmmmmmm, Pogo smiled, unwittingly showing his

"horny" face to everyone in the room.  His eyes still shut, unaware

 

"Pogo!" Barked Samsid, tone grim and voice deeper than normal. 

 

Pogo groaned, the volume of Sammy's voice was a bit too much to take first thing in the morning. Maybe if he were quieter it'd be more fun. Then Pogo could work his

"magic" and pull Sammy a little bit closer to him, and try to see what it would take to crack that cold, occasionally funny exterior. Sliding his fingers over his face a la Edward

Munch's "Scream", Pogo finally looked up to his King, and saw him, Merritt, Troy, Jordana and a few other fighters surrounding him. 

 

Shit. 

 

"Oh, is today 'sanctioned orgy day at Yackley's?" yawned Pogo, trying to nonchalantly pretend his back ooze wasn't still bubbling out of his skin. 

 

There was a collective groan, before Jordana snorted, "Yup. He's fine." and began walking out of the room. As Pogo stretched, she signaled Merritt to join her, whispering "I

think he may need one of your old friends' medicine...do you need me to sneak into the North and get a connection?"

 

"No," Merritt rushed, "I can't risk losing our King's trust again. Try and get someone over to Yackley's...talk up one of the girls you know there. You know what to do." Merritt

ordered, and Jordana nodded briefly, before heading out the door. 

 

Merritt returned to Pogo's side, well, as close as he could be without brushing arms with Samsid. King Samsid looked really different. He seemed colder and more

protective than ever...That was it. 

 

Merritt had to get to the bottom of this. 


	2. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pogo's back bleeding has settled, and he's having a talk with Sammy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if I'll be able to update every day, but I definitely want to! :D

After Merritt, Jordana, Troy and the other fighters left Pogo's side, Sammy reached out to Pogo. 

 

"What did you do to yerself?" Muttered Samsid, pulling Pogo's right shoulder closer to him. Pogo shifted suddenly, and Sammy realized that there were no real cuts on the

nineteen year old's skin, the blood just came out of nowhere. Without realizing the intimacy of the situation, Sammy stared deep into Pogo's dark eyes, and saw no real fear

in them, so he raised his brows to continue the question. 

 

"I think we both know what's going on here." Replied Pogo, with a dark look on his face. 

 

Samsid studied Pogo's back and slowly, delicately, reached into his pocket and pulled out a washcloth. He started working his way around Pogo's bizarre wound and gently

wiped all of the lilac-scented blood away from him. Samsid hadn't smelled lilac in years, but remembering its scent brought images of a past he wanted to forget crashing

back into his mind. _No, not today. Not yet._

 

Starting to move down the longest length of the cross, Sammy felt Pogo's thin spine raise and lower with his breath, and wondered just what this young man had been

through. At Pogo's age, he had suffered a nasty cut across his upper left brow to his dark circle. At the time, he joked with friends long since dead that he looked like an old

character from a movie about Lions...Scar, was the character's name. Hmph, snorted Samsid, thinking back to the memories he'd since locked away. 

 

"I haven't heard you laugh since the first time I made the invaders drop their weapons." 

 

Sammy froze, remembering that he wasn't allowed to reveal personal feelings to anyone. No one could be trusted. Not Mercury, not the Queens, especially not Bardia. That

asshole kept trying to steal his best secret weapon...Did Bardia know?

                                                                                                                    xXXx

Pogo seemed to recognize his mistake, and turned back around to face Sammy, catching him off guard. Sammy's expression was not unlike "The Thinker" as he seemed lost

in his mind. Eyes narrowed, brows cinched closer together, and lips in a focused frown. Pogo was brought to the time he first met him, Sammy pushed him back against a

wall, and _how_ he escaped a probable death. Admittedly, his "magic" skills had done the real saving, but his distraction technique brought upon Pogo some serious problems.

Dreaming of making out with someone was awkward enough when you knew them, worse when you got mixed signals, but ultimately horrible when your dream-lover was a

King whose life was constantly in threat. In fantasy, Pogo would have thought something like this was really sexy. But even with all of Samsid's power, brains and incredible

muscles (his abs = godly), Pogo couldn't help but hope that someday he could have Sammy all to himself in a safe part of the Underground. 

 

After a solid fifteen seconds of staring, Samsid looked up and damn, if Pogo wasn't lost before, he certainly was now. Sammy's eyes were soft but protective, and warm. Pogo

found himself leaning forward, slowly but surely, becoming closer to his King. Sammy was someone he could trust, and judging by the look he gave Merritt earlier, Pogo's

safety wasn't about to be compromised anytime soon. If he could protect Pogo from his best friend, then Pogo was safer than he'd ever been. Eyelids dropping slowly, Pogo

turned his head closer to Sammy's ear and whispered, "My magical powers come from a demon. Yes, I have a demon dick. No, it doesn't look scary, unless you're into that

sort of thing." 

 

Sammy actually smiled, and his gorgeous accent kicked in. Oh, yes. Pogo was smitten. 

 

"Yer not too bad for a half demon," chuckled Samsid, breath hot on Pogo's neck. 

 

"But let me make one thing clear," Continued Sammy, posture becoming more relaxed.

 

"I don't have a right hand or Queen for good reason, and if I appoint you as one, Bardia will increase the profit on your head. So don't go acting above your card value." 

 

Pogo's eyelids drooped even further, sinking to his most comfortably aroused level. 

 

"I think I can manage that." 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Stop and Stare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Troy is staring at Merritt, and Jordana notices. Will gay shit ensue?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one night! 1 hour apart at max!! Yeahhhhhhh I'm feeling it ;) Hope you guys enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> Also yes I wanted to get the OneRepublic song stuck in all y'alls'(?) heads so have fun with that.

Merritt paced back and forth outside the room where his friend lay, talking to the scariest (well, second only to Bardia) King in the entire Underground. Jordana had already sent 

a highly trusted fighter to go and get Pogo medicine, but Merritt was still worried about his best friend. Pogo seemed...haunted, possessed, even. If he couldn't protect Pogo 

from a strange illness down in the Underground, then who would be able to? Merritt didn't know if Pogo had that tattoo on his back before or after he became one of the 

Underground, but hoped it was before. He wanted his friend to have a choice, and besides, it made more sense. Bardia barely had thirty seconds with Pogo in his grasp, so 

tattoos weren't an option. Merritt had one, yes, but it was small and no one would ever know what it meant...

Two tiny letters, "DM" formed together so tightly at the outer creases of his index finger that it looked more like a smudge of ink, or a brown spot. Only one person had ever 

asked about them, and that man was standing somewhere behind him. 

xxXxx

Troy stared at Merritt, a truly delectable twink by anyone's standards (hey, the world here is pretty gay lbh), but to Troy...damn. He was an impeccable man, with battle 

strategy and cunning unparalleled by any in all four spheres. Even before Samsid's rule was challenged by Mercury, Troy had been getting to know Merrit and he was constantly 

impressed by his charm and wit. Perhaps so impressed that he was blind to see what was in front of him. Although Troy admitted deep down in his bitter, power-hungry heart 

that Merritt was an incredible weapon, he was still a man. A man with weakness. A man with love...for his King. Not Samsid, as the man was terrified of him, but Mercury. The 

leader who saw Merritt only as a way to reach the goals he wanted, who saw Merritt as not a man, but a cannon. A weapon, free to use and manipulate and abuse. It was 

wrong. 

Once, Troy had confessed to Merritt, in the form of a kiss. He held the pale skinned, delicately beautiful man's hand in his own, and drunkenly pressed lips against lips. It was 

only when Merritt wrung his hands after slapping him, that Troy noticed the slight spot on his hand. If Merritt's slap to the face hadn't been enough to wrack his body with guilt, 

then seeing those two letters, smudged and barely distinguishable, destroyed what last hope Troy had. 

 

Jordana clapped. Her friend had successfully gotten what she needed, and now that her work was done

 

Suddenly the quiet, self-pitying world Troy had built around himself collapsed, and his eyes raised from the floor to see Merritt's. The icy blue pair penetrated his mind, his 

heart, and his soul. Naturally, his sexual tension could only come out in the form of bitter rudeness, so he said: 

 

"Go check on your stupid boyfriend if you're so worried." Merritt's lips grimaced, an ugly look on such a beautiful man, and he turned from Troy. 

 

Despite his heartbreak, Troy knew his words had a bite to them. They reminded Merritt of his oh-so-beloved King 'Damen' Mercury, and his silvering hair, tough but soft strong 

build, and a perfect "daddy issues" outlet. Fuck. If only Troy weren't such a damn bear. His masculinity got in the way of many things, such as enjoying fun drinks at Yackley's, 

hitting on men for one night stands (they thought he was joking), and most importantly his love for Merritt. Troy wished he could crush those feelings like he wanted to hit Pogo, 

King Samsid's new affection (although his King was a hoe in denial). Unfortunately for him, Troy's love was like the world's most stubborn crocuses. They would be stepped on, 

torn, burnt, even - but they would always grow back and spring into a new depth of loving Merritt. 

 

xxXxx

 

Jordana was talking in a hushed tone to Merritt, although she doubted Troy or anyone else was listening in. Pogo was their friend. Their horny friend with a supposed 

magical telekinetic dick, and a serious interest in Samsid. Sometime in her conversation with the former general, she noticed the current one was zoning out with a 

rather...disheartened look on his face. Perhaps he was afraid of being replaced by Pogo? No way, Jordana quickly concluded, remembering how Pogo was too excitable and '

'special' for battle. At least, according to Samsid. Jordana suspected Pogo was simply too weak, and returned to her pondering. Merritt's talking was pretty simple, everyday s

stuff, so she nodded her head every once in a while and encouraged him to speak with "Mhms, yes" and any other filler content she could make up off a few words' context. 

 

No matter what she and Merritt did, and how she changed her expressions and behaviors to test him, Troy never stopped looking at her...or...was he? Oh my god. He was 

looking at Merritt with the look of a kicked puppy. Or, at least the closest thing to a puppy Troy could ever be. Maybe a disgruntled pitbull (which are still super frickin cute btw) 

or bulldog. But there was no mistaking that look. Jordana knew the feeling of betrayal, when her girlfriend fled to the South Sphere and broke her heart. She was just so 

surprised something of that caliber could come from Merritt. By the looks of it, Troy had been seriously hurt, and maybe even rejected. Imagining Troy asking out Merritt was a 

bit weird, but then again...it would explain other things. Like how Troy was always 'intimidating' Merritt (aka driving him up the wall) and threatening him, while being 

rather...close...to someone he supposedly didn't like. 

 

Then, it clicked. 

 

Jordana wished she wasn't such a genius. Her aptitude was something great on the battlefield, but her perceptive skills made her uncomfortable when she realized relationships 

between her peers. It felt too personal, and unprofessional. They killed together, showered together (but separate bathrooms to my knowledge in canon) and ate together, but 

sleeping together was a whole other thing. Even Littlehands was private about his love life, despite his openness with Pogo and Annie (when he thought no one was listening). 

 

Troy was in love with Merritt, and Merritt was interested in someone else. Once she overheard Samsid question Merritt for calling King Mercury "Damen," and could have sworn 

she'd HEARD his flush. Initially she thought it was a slip of the tongue, and that he was embarrassed over showing such a disrespect for his older King, but Jordana had the 

feeling now that something else was going on with those two...It was time to talk to Samsid.


	4. Yackley's Booze and Emporium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part one of this chapter. I know it'll f*ck up the order but I think I'll plan part 2 more and make it better. ;))))))))))))))   
> Jordana sees the two would-be couples, and the obnoxious King. Fuck off, Damen. ;) 
> 
>  
> 
> *not everything will happen in this chapter, this one is more about her speculating Pogo's relationship with Sammy but f*ck it this'll still help develop things <3 y'all!!! thanks for the support!!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> H.R. I'm doing this out of love <3 hahaha I never shut up about this comic and you put up with me bc I converted you to it

Jordana sipped her "Focus" brew from the North, and sipped the wine like substance thoughtfully. She watched the crowds come and go, people heading off with friends or to one-night stands. Some would probably be murdered as soon as they left, as Yackley's was one of the only Underground's places of neutrality.Noting the new lights in front of her, Jordana realized today must have been some type of holiday celebration. The Underground didn't have real seasons, so the weather was faked by the lights system and whatever props people could scavenge from the surface. This year, Yackley's was covered in what were called "ferry lights" (aka xmas candles) and lots of multicolored LED fat men with red sacks. Jordana pondered what they meant; Christianity/Catholicism wasn't really her thing, as she had lived here almost her whole life. Her mother used to drag her around as a small child, with cuts all over her from the awful men that would visit her mom...Men on drugs, trying to get better, she had said. Sullenly, Jordana changed her thoughts back to the lights and bizarre culture of the Underground. Usually the holidays mimicked Above traditions, but often resulted in satire or teasing. After all, no one in the Underground was believing in a magical man who could fly and make wishes come true. 

 

Unless you counted Pogo, with his supposed telekinetic dick. Maybe Pogo could fly around giving people gifts - Jordana cut herself off from that comment, quickly realizing how wrong that sounded. Imagining her "rookie" wearing a scandalous red outfit and lace was a little too much for her brain to handle. Wincing and trying not to chuckle like the perv she knew she was (aren't we all?), Jordana felt a smile creep up on her face. Suddenly she felt a lot warmer and safer, despite her watching over Pogo and the others. She may have been one of Samsid's best for strongholds in fights

 

She turned around from the bar, and saw Pogo and Samsid's feet, hiding underneath the red velvet curtains Yackley's stored. They were rented out either for dates, or for specific political conversations that needed to be soundproof. Jordana had only been in one once, and that was before Samsid's crowning. She never wanted to go back in, unless it was for the sake of protecting her King. Samsid was the most just and understandable King, so she had to support him in order to maintain her freedom. 

 

Pogo's toes were pointed towards Samsid's, _a marker of inclination_ , Jordana noted. But for what? She doubted Pogo would ever be the first to make a move, although she _had_ overheard about the pair's first kiss. Although it had been an escape plan for Pogo, she had laughed very hard, imagining how red her King must have turned. If Pogo was as passionate a kisser as he was a talker, then Samsid had been in for it. 

 

Not like he didn't deserve it, though. Samsid had been through a lot lately, and with Bardia's Bullshit (TM) stressing him out over Pogo, it was becoming more and more clear her King's intentions weren't just to weaponize Pogo. Samsid was growing soft for the Catholic with a real cross to bear, and all of his quirks. She once again felt her lips curling upwards, thinking of the happiness her King needed. Pogo and him were a quite unexpected but brilliant match, with Pogo's immaturity bringing out the joy in Samsid again, and Samsid's seriousness allowing Pogo to be vulnerable without worry. 

For a woman interested in other women, she was certainly very perceptive about men. 


	5. Yackley's Booze and Emporium Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of Jordana being herself ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! :) I saw a few of you the other day and y'all were fabulous! <3 Have an awesome Sunday!

Jordana let her eyes wander to the other side of the room. In the far right corner, parallel to Pogo and Samsid, Troy was staring into his brew. It looked like he wasn't quite ready to drink tonight, yet he seemed like he needed to. He reached into one of his many satchels around his belt, and poured a small amount of powder into his drink. The drink began to slowly change colors, swirling about as Troy casually moved his glass. To the untrained eye, all would seem normal. But Jordana knew better. Something was wrong with Troy, and if he was abusing substances, then he would need to see someone in the North...doctors weren't common anywhere else. 

 

Out of the corner of her eye, Jordana saw a light flicker. Underneath it stood Merritt, reaching across a tall table to talk with one of his friends from the North. He seemed more comfortable with the woman he was talking to. She had dark brown hair, and had a few vials of some type of medicine under her white lab coat. She must have left her workplace quickly, noted Jordana. As she watched Merritt, she saw Mercury come in and couldn't help but frown. Mercury had been a dick after overthrowing the former East King, and had tried to overtake Samsid. Although that had been about eight months ago, she couldn't get over such a betrayal. Mercury was arguably more ruthless than Bardia, although his methods were more manipulative than brutal violence. 

Mercury turned subtly, and...did he just wink at Merritt? Alarms were blasting through Jordana's head, and she looked back at Samsid and Pogo's "tent". Damn. Until that tent was opened by her King, she wasn't allowed to go in. The stupid thing was still closed, and although she was a higher rank than Pogo, ( _much_ higher) she had an instinctual feeling that wasn't going to be the case for much longer. Pogo had been wearing Samsid's right-hand armbands for months now, and with his bizarre closeness with the King didn't leave a lot of room for other theories. He seemed too much of a goofball to be trusted, yet Samsid had some type of kindred spirit bond with the young man. Well, it seemed like that special bond needed to be interrupted. 

Jordana walked over to the tent, and tried knocking (which was very uncomfortable). Her King's deep voice came through it, muffled, asking who was there. She whispered her name through a small tear (Yackley's did need to fix these things up), and Samsid allowed her in. Moving the velvety cover past her sides, Jordana saw Pogo sitting on the opposite side of Samsid, with a slightly peeved face. His normally silly grinning and 'casual' flirting must have been interrupted, so she'd apologize later to her friend. Jordana muttered to Samsid her theory, and his eyes slightly widened, then his eyebrows raised and lids sunk. He snorted, and told Pogo to meet him outside in a minute. Pogo's grumpy expression shifted to a more worried one, and he reluctantly stepped out. 

"King." Spoke Jordana in a conspiratorial tone. 

 

"If he's with Mercury, or at least being controlled by him, then we may still be victim to the North all these months later. You told me how upset Mercury was when you reminded him of how you took his general. By the looks of it, Merritt may be a lot more. You KNOW he only destroys a weapon when he's done using it, and even Troy admits that Merritt is too damn valuable for us to lose." 

 

Samsid groaned, throwing his head up in frustration. "Ugh, this is why I never take anyone to bed with me." 

 

Jordana nodded, adding "Maybe we could get him onto our side, without having to use force."

 

Samsid's head shot back down to Jordana's level, and his eyebrows scrunched together. 

 

"How exactly can we DO that?" He asked, now making full eye contact with his best fighter. 

 

"I think I have a plan," Jordana gestured outside of the tent, slowly stepping out of it. 

 

Her King followed, and with a single word, she set forth a sequence of events that would revolutionize the East. 

 

"Troy." 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	6. Divide and Conquer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Samsid is working with Jordana to enact her plan, Pogo is mysteriously absent from this chapter, Merritt and Troy are unaware.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise Pogo will have another chapter soon, it's been a while but for now I need to focus on the overarching plot. :)

Samsid couldn't believe it. Jordana was honestly his favorite person right now, aside from Pogo and the genius she possessed was potentially going to save the Underground's East Sphere. Speeding back to his room via motorcycle, Samsid couldn't hide the smirk on his face. Her plan was so brilliant that Sammy had one thought running through his head on the way home: 

 

_All's fair in love and war._

 

The plan was this: take advantage of Troy's interest in Merritt, and Merritt's undoubted twinkness, and get them together to make a power couple so strong it would bring the North empire to its knees, as Mercury would no longer have a hold on Merritt. Oh, this would be fun. 

 

Next Day: 

 

Troy woke up and ate breakfast, chewing the scrambled eggs Littlehands had made for everyone. He had a knack for good food. Said something about a Barefoot Contest lady (Barefoot Contessa) inspiring him when he was a child, but whatever feet had to do with cooking - Troy didn't wanna know. He'd just accept the delicious food and enjoy it. 

 

Merritt sat across from him, his sleepy eyes dark and his hair slightly ruffled. He was so cute. At one point, Merritt dropped his fork into his food and looked too tired to even pick it up. Childlike behavior was unexpected from the normally calculated and careful Merritt, whose wit was sharp and intellect high. Troy figured Merritt must have been up late, and that he didn't have an opportunity to get rest. Silently pondering what Merritt was up to, Troy cleaned up his area and marched up to Samsid's room. Knocking on the door before entering, Troy boldly stepped in to find what looked like Samsid pushing Pogo away from him. Pogo must have molested him or something, but considering the King's hands were still on the small man's shoulders, Troy figured he had interrupted something special. Oops. Whatever, Samsid could probably use the stress relief of someone in his bed. 

 

Samsid told Pogo to go take a shower, and Troy began talking to his King about today's plans for management. Everyone was still a little tense after the invasion by Bardia, so Troy figured Samsid would have some type of important job for him to do. 

 

"Where do you need me?" Asked Troy, head high and confident smile shining through. 

 

"With Merritt, strategizing on how to take down the North and West." 

 

"King. We can't take down both at once, and I know you know that. Besides, why Merritt?" 

 

"Troy, you were the one who said getting Merritt out of the North's betrayal to us would be a blow to Mercury's strength, and other than you, he's the best general any sphere has seen. Stop being ridiculous, and go work with him. I know you can do it." 

 

Troy could have sworn he'd seen the faintest sparkle in Samsid's eyes that moment, but decided against bickering with the King any longer. Besides, if Merritt knew they were now assigned to work together on massive strategic plans, then maybe some bonding could happen and he could show Merritt how awful Mercury was after all...aaaaand there was Troy's stupid heart getting all worked up again. Damnit. 

 

 

Merritt walked into the strategy room to find his new partner, only to see Troy sitting there across the table from him. Samsid had only told him _what_ to plan, not who his "buddy" was. Looking down, he saw his chair was already pulled out, so Merritt awkwardly sat down and prepared for the most awkward discussion ever. Maybe if he could get Troy to focus on taking down Bardia, Mercury's harm would be minimized. 

 

"Troy." 

 

"Merritt."

 

Troy leaned back in his chair, the epitome of confidence. He wondered how this would go. Merritt already looked uncomfortable, and was he blushing? Ooh this would be fun! Troy slipped off his trenchcoat and subtly flexed his muscles as he combed his fingers through his hair. Ahhhh the art of seduction was his forte. Merritt interrupted his thoughts, saying: 

 

"Okay, so we have to analyze the weaknessess of both Spheres before we can do anything. Let's do a SWOT analysis and see what we find." 

 

"SWOT? Isn't that used for business?" Troy raised his eyebrow and gave Merritt a concerned look. He didn't know WHAT the North had taught him, but war was never business to Troy. 

 

"Yes, but if we figure out what strengths, weaknesses, opportunities and threats there are to us from their side, we can manipulate that and make the West and North fall upon themselves." 

 

Troy was impressed, and moved his coat from the back of his chair to his lap. Merritt didn't need to know about Troy's sapiosexual attraction to him. 

 

Merritt continued on with his analysis of the West, and moved onto his uncomfortable SWOT of the North. He got all the way across Strengths, Opportunities and Threats to the East from the North, but fell short. Troy stepped in, speaking for the first time since Merritt began openly discussing this plan. 

 

"You forgot one important thing. You. You're the biggest threat to Damen Mercury and you know it. We HAVE to exploit that." 

 

"Troy, I don't know what you're talking about. And even if I did, that's highly immoral."

 

"Oh, so messing with someone's feelings is immoral but killing dozens isn't? Nice to know where your morals stand." 

 

"That's not what I meant and you know it." 

 

"Then what did you mean? It's not like you haven't done both before." 

 

"Are you still talking about that night? I'm sorry if I led you on or anything, but Damen and I haven't talked in months."

 

"Damen?" Troy bitterly smirked, noting the remaining closeness between the manipulative bastard and his Merritt. His Merritt? When did he start thinking that? Oh, no.  

 

Merritt turned bright red, and his ears pulled back. Troy had him there. 

 

"Forget it, Troy. If you're not willing to let go of the past and move on then I don't think we should be working together on this." 

 

"I disagree, Merritt. I think all those years of being a daddy's boy have gotten to you, and that you're losing your edge. Without my help, none of this will be possible. And don't tell me I'm not willing to let go of the past. You're still holding onto your precious Damen, and we _both_ know he's using you and that I actually _care_." 

 

With that, Troy gathered his jacket and walked out of the room, shutting the door quietly to avoid drawing attention. He was hurt. Pissed, and hurt. 

 

Merritt gaped. In all his years of working with the top tier members of the sphere, he had never been confronted by someone so blatantly honest. Troy had already confessed to him, once - but he had never been so up front about his emotions regarding Merritt since. Merritt began wondering if Troy was really right, if Damen _was_ using him. Merritt had a lot of thinking to do. 

 

 

Outside the room, through a small listening device, Samsid and Jordana silently high fived one another. Their plan was coming together perfectly. 


	7. Can't Get You Out of My Head Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pogo is bored. Merritt is having a quarter life crisis. These two cuties are my sons. :D deal with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm swamped with homework, so basically you need to give me feedback and ideas for the future of this. I want this to be a long story, and for there to be audience interaction. :D I'm using this as fun time bc I don't have all the room in the world for social things rn, so please enjoy. 
> 
> Did I mention I'm thirsting for comments and ideas?

Pogo was bored. Nothing fun had happened since Samsid had been whisked away by Jordana, and if he didn't know she was gayer than the day is long, he might be envious. But whatever the plan was, those two were in cahoots and it seemed to have nothing to do with him, so Pogo guessed he could relax. 

 

Wrong. 

 

Troy had been sent to fetch Pogo and teach him more self defense techniques, and Merritt was supposed to watch over the two sparring. Merritt normally would have been terrified for his friend, but his mind was a bit preoccupied with _other_ things at the moment. Ever since Troy's...second confession, Merritt's mind was flooded with the man. The blonde, eyebrowless man with incredible strength and ruthless devotion had now become the focus of rare daydreaming. Merritt blushed, and stood up in Samsid's chair in the tournament room, looking down at his weak but kind best friend. 

Pogo dodged a swift kick from Troy, and right as Merritt was about to cheer him on, Pogo jumped up with glee. His arms in a victory "V", Pogo was quickly knocked over by a punch to the stomach by Troy. Merritt facepalmed, thinking what a poor idiot Pogo was. Hearing a yelp, Merritt saw Troy smirk, and then his eyes wandered down the strong man's body. Gulp. Those sparring suits ordered in from the South were really a bit too...revealing and faux-leathery. With a tightness not unlike spandex, Merritt had to think _HARD_ to concentrate. 

_But he's so hot..._

Merritt snapped up, realizing what he was thinking, and quickly called out to Troy to ease up on Pogo. Pogo muttered something under his breath, (was that Latin?) and shook himself off. For such a weak young man, he seemed to recover quickly. Aaaaaaaand Pogo's perverseness had definitely rubbed off on him. Damnit. Back to Troy...

 

He was so fucked. 

 

Then again, maybe romance wouldn't be such a bad idea. God knew it had been closer to a year since the last time he and Damen got it on. And although Damen definitely knew what he was doing, the distant memories were having less and less of an allure as time passed. Merritt was moving on, and feeling a sense of pride for the fighter's sphere. This new patriotism may have been from adjusting to being respected (well, by everyone except Troy), or...maybe those leather pants. Probably both. 

 

Samsid and Jordana were quietly observing their fellow friend through Jordana's binoculars. Their plan looked like it was working, and although Pogo was getting his butt handed to him, Samsid ignored the twinge in his heart because he knew that Pogo wouldn't always be able to work his "magic" during battle. He would need to muster up some physical strength first. 

 

TBC.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	8. I Can't Get You Out of My Head Pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pogogogogogogo's side of things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave me comments. Idc if they're in guest mode, I would love ideas from anyone! :)

Pogo was fighting for his life, for his reputation, for Sammy's attention! He smirked, only to find himself wincing after a hard blow by Troy. Troy seemed really mad today, and had a lot of creases in his forehead. Every once in a while, Pogo would look up to Merritt to see if his pal would help him out but to no avail. If anything, those looks distracted Troy and made him scowl even more. 

 

Geez, Troy really had it out for Merritt! Pogo internally shuddered, wondering what on earth Merritt had done to Troy to deserve this. Troy was an asshole, yes, but he wouldn't be THIS mean without some type of a reason. Maybe Troy had been jealous of Merritt's rank as Damen Mercury's general? Ooh! That seemed accurate! Pogo jumped up with his victory pose, only to be hit in the stomach by Troy. 

 

Fuck. That would leave a mark. 

 

Lately, all sorts of small injuries were taking longer for Pogo to heal from. Pogo didn't know why, but he figured it wasn't uncommon for people like himself. Not that many people were possessed by demons, and Pogo supposed his resistance to "Father" was causing problems. Dickhead. Ugh, why couldn't that stupid priest have just killed his mom and left Pogo to be an orphan. 

Picking up speed and previously unfound strength, Pogo channeled his anger into hitting Troy. Sure, he was still getting his ass handed to him, but his endurance needed to come first, Sammy said. Pogo pointed out the double entendre and flaw in that statement, but instead of Sammy groaning, Sammy actually laughed again. 

 

Ouch. Troy had knocked Pogo to the ground now, and where the hell was Merritt? Jesus ass that boy hadn't been doing his job at ALL today! Pogo scrunched up his face, preparing for a K.O. from Troy, only to open his eyes and see Sammy standing above him. 

 

"Get up." Said the shredded king, looking way too gorgeous for a man who was constantly stressed. Samsid ordered Troy run after Merritt, and to tell him to "do his fucking job", and lent a hand towards Pogo. 

 

Troy left, and for the first time that day, Pogo saw a smile on his face. Hm, maybe he's a sadist or something, Pogo wondered, but he didn't have much time to think. 

 

"Ahem." Samsid cleared his throat, and gestured towards his hand, still untaken. 

Pogo reached for the outstretched hand, and felt immediately overtaken by warmth. The cloth on Sammy's vest was thin enough Pogo could feel all of Samsid's incredible muscles, could practically SEE his gorgeous ebony skin...Weakly, Pogo tried to stand up on his own, feeling his legs quake in the presence of such a (raw sexy beast) man. Sammy pulled Pogo to his chest, and pivoted him slightly so that one arm was around Pogo's shoulder. Pogo was bright red. And on such a pale complexion, he knew it was obvious. Thankfully Sammy started walking Pogo back to the fighter's dorms, kind as ever, and Pogo could feel the heat building up stronger within him. Pogo tripped slightly, and felt Sammy move to catch him before he hit the floor. 

 

Pogo thought must have been dreaming or dead, because moments like this don't happen to him. Pogo hoes it up as much as he wants to, but that's just it - hoeing it up. It doesn't even work most of the time! But now, Samsid, KING Samsid, was underneath Pogo in a quiet East Underground hallway, with no one the wiser. Pogo's eyelids dropped slightly, and Samsid's eyes widened. Pogo leaned forward, face relaxed and ready to kiss his king...

 

 

TBC 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	9. I Can't Get You Out of My Head Pt. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merritt ran. Troy enjoyed the view of dat ass. ;)

Sometime before Samsid stepped in, Merritt realized he had a problem...a physical one... Shit. Poorly timed boners were the worst, especially when you had a _bit_ of a power kink. God, Merritt thought Mercury was the epitome of power - HELLO? HE'S A KING!!! YOU CAN'T GET ANY HIGHER THAN THAT!!!

 

But somehow, during Troy's fight with Pogo, whom Merritt was becoming more and more convinced was a demon...Troy pulled a power move that made Merritt weak at the knees. Sliding his foot in a flawlessly smooth motion, Troy had Pogo on the ground. Imagining how wanted to be treated like that, all the blood rushed from Merritt's head to below his belt, and Merritt felt the color drain from his face. Fuck, that was hot. 

 

Merritt knew his "problem" wasn't going away anytime soon without help, and he certainly didn't want anyone noticing. Before the fight ended, Merritt took off and ran towards the showers to cool himself off. Stripping himself of his uniform and switching the nozzle onto the cold setting, Merritt hoped the icy water would tame his sex drive. Stepping out of his boxers (they had a cute little "E" for East Sphere on the right leg), Merritt grimaced as he stepped into the frigid shower. Ugh, these things sucked but they worked. 

Until someone decided to fuck that up. 

Merritt's shower method had been helpful, but once changing he heard a knock at the door and without any other warning, Troy stepped in. Merritt felt the blood get confused in him, some returning to his waist but the rest flushing his face. Dressed in only his towel, Merritt looked up at the muscular man who had apparently chased after him. 

"What?"Merritt asked, hoping that Troy hadn't come of his own accord. That could lead to things that Merritt wasn't quite ready for. Tempting things, but not good things for Merritt's dick to be focused on. Better get all those sexy images of Troy dominating him out of his head...oops that didn't help. 

 

"Samsid sent me here to tell you to do your job," Troy muttered darkly, walking towards Merritt with his head lowered, eyes locking with Merritt's. He did _not_ look happy.

 

Merritt stepped back, accidentally bumping into the cold shower tiles. He shivered, feeling his skin tighten. Troy looked ready to eat Merritt alive (I SWEAR I'M NOT INTO VORE), and not in the hot way. Merritt's feet were uncomfortably wet, and with his back returning to that cold, uncomfortable sensation, he could get a sense of his sanity back. 

Until Troy leaned in, whispering into Merritt's ear: "If you pull some stunt like that again, don't think I won't punish you. Samsid will order it, and quite frankly," he paused, pulling back so Merritt could see Troy's face, his eyes, his hair, the shine of sweat on his brow, and his lips...

 

"I don't think you'd mind it." 

 

With that, Troy turned around and walked out the showers, leaving Merritt with another inconvenient boner and a lot more mental confusion. 

 

Merritt's towel fell. 

 

Yup, he had a power kink all right. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I. NEED. NOTES. OMG I am so grateful to see so many people reading this, but I would seriously love some feedback and cute ideas/prompts/side stories to do. 
> 
> I have a plan for where the main arc of the story is going, but I can't go any further without the inspiration of my people. Besides - there's opportunities for romance here and I am not one to skimp out on that. So please, comment as guest if you feel quiet/nervous. If you don't want me "approving your comment" I'll totally leave it in my inbox and mention you gave me an idea using a nickname. ;)


	10. Flesh

Jordana walked in on an intimate looking moment between Pogo and Samsid. Pogo was straddling Samsid, who had a calm smile on his face. Both were still dressed in their

traditional East Sphere fighting clothes, and Pogo had his armbands askew. It looked like her King was about to get some action, FINALLY. Not wanting to interrupt before

Pogo worked up the courage to kiss Samsid, Jordana quietly shut the door and started walking the other way...She smirked knowingly. 

 

 

                                                                     x                                             XXX                                             x 

 

Pogo leaned in, and whispered "Target practice." 

 

Samsid groaned, and said, "You're never going to let that go, are you?"

 

Pogo smirked and replied, "Not until I get what I want, hahaha!" Pogo's laugh was beautiful. 

 

Samsid looked up at the young man straddling his waist, thinking to himself just how screwed he was. Pogo had barely been in his life for three months and had already

managed to bring back the joy Samsid hadn't felt since his uprising as King. Pogo wasn't a great fighter, and in a sphere of fighters that was pretty bad - but his potential as a

lover was beginning to show. Littlehands had caught Sammy staring at Pogo from a distance earlier that week, and teased him about it saying, "I know you want to be like 

ferret is to him. But you must not be so shy!" Samsid pulled away from his binoculars with a groan. He was red-handed...caught by Littlehands, no less. 

 

_"I don't know what you're insinuating, Littlehands, but I don't like where it's taking my mind." Samsid's tone was a bit more clipped than normal, and his accent was slipping_

_into his speech again._

 

_Littlehands smiled, patting Samsid on the shoulder and said, "He is a beautiful man, and a kind one at that. Who knows? Maybe he'll be good for you," Littlehands continued._

 

_"We noticed the arm-bands, and with your history of not having a right hand man/queen, Jordana and I thought you two were already together. I know, I know you're not,"_

_Littlehands raised his forearms to shield his face and torso from an increasingly agitated Sammy._

 

_"But you look at him the way he looks at that ferret, even if it doesn't translate to your mouth. Your eyes are smiling again, Samsid, and we can tell it isn't because of the_

_little /ferret scarves' this Pogo has littered the floor with."_

 

                                                                            x                                             x                                        x 

 

Samsid clicked back to reality. 

 

Pogo had said something about wanting? 

 

"Wait, what?" Samsid asked, his voice becoming clouded. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pogo blushed again, but this time it was hard to see. Sliding himself awkwardly off his King, Pogo tried to cover his face and mouth so he wouldn't Freudian fuck up further. Standing a few feet from his King, Pogo tilted his head down, hair falling in front of his face, and his eyes downcast. 

Pogo thought he'd never stop dying of embarrassment, but then he started to feel...funny. Pogo felt a bizarre sense of relaxation take over him, then his confidence suddenly was overwhelming. Feeling as strong as an incubus, Pogo straightened his posture and leaned down to help Sammy up. Reaching Samsid's soft but calloused hands, Pogo felt a pang in his lower stomach. He needed to do something. Needed to _bond_ with Sammy, in the most biblical sense. 

 

Samsid's senses were overwhelmed with pheromones. Pogo smelled strongly of lilacs, jasmine and sex. The sensory overload was getting to him, and Samsid felt his eyelids drop as he stood, suddenly feeling weaker and shorter than the thin, seemingly frail young man. Feeling a drunken haze overwhelm him, Samsid began leaning in, lips parted to accommodate the plush ones coming towards his mouth. 

Pogo kissed Sammy, and he went _all_ _out_. Sucking on Samsid's bottom lip, and breathily gasping every once in a while, Pogo heightened the mood by sliding his hands around Samsid's neck. Slipping his fingers through the thick locs Sammy had, Pogo felt the smooth skin under his fingertips and yearned for more. Neck craning to reach the taller man, Pogo dove his tongue into Sammy's mouth and pushed down on his chest, trying to ease Samsid onto the floor. The two were heavily aroused, and Pogo could practically feel the King feening against him. 

TBC


	11. Levitation, Hesitation

Pogo snapped back, spine arching in a mix of pain and pleasure - his mind was sending victory cheers, red flags and alarm bells. He had just made out with his King, but not for escaping and he felt full of _energy_. Nervous energy, like he could bolt and knock someone out with one hit. Pogo knew he was weak, so this electrical current he felt going through him couldn't be good. He thought for a minute, trying to find the right description. He felt powerful and...ashen? 

 

Pogo looked at his pale hands, and noticed there were traces of charcoal on them with no apparent source. Sliding his hands up his arms, Pogo felt the development of some new muscles, presumably from fighting Troy.... _But shouldn't they still be forming?_ Pogo wondered, noticing more of the dust on his skin. Stretching one arm up and behind him, Pogo leaned back to feel if any "ooze" had come out and perhaps solidified into this weird substance. 

 

No dice. 

 

Samsid, on the other hand wasn't doing nearly as much as Pogo. The King seemed drunkenly tired and had decided that the floor was the best place for a nap. Unlike Pogo, he was drained and in need of rest. Samsid's dark circles which normally were intense, seemed vampiric and equally ashen as Pogo's arms. 

 

Pogo leaned toward Samsid, and noticed a slight shift in Samsid's body. Samsid had moved towards Pogo, hovering an inch off the ground without using his muscles. He was being pulled to Pogo with an almost magnetic connection. Pogo stepped back, and Samsid's body stopped levitating. Pogo stepped forward again, then back, doing the "hoky poky" motions to see what movements caused Sammy to lift up, and then fall. 

 

This was bad. Taking Sammy's phone out of his pocket (then having to place Samsid down gently on the hardwood ground), Pogo texted Jordana saying he needed help. Merritt was great and all, but Merritt was too secretive to be trusted, if that made any sense. With Troy looking grumpily around Merritt, Pogo figured their relationship issues could lead in a private outburst becoming a problem. Pogo was not in the mood to be persecuted again, so he clicked "Send" and began awkwardly levitating his King back to his chambers. 

 

 

Jordana's phone went off, and she saw the message was from Samsid. Reading over it quickly, she gauged it was actually sent by Pogo, and estimated she had forty five minutes before Pogo would REALLY need her help. It was late afternoon, and Samsid was known for spending his time alone, planning into the night. Nothing would seem out of the ordinary. 

 

Besides, she had other problems to deal with. 

 

Merritt was talking to her in explicit detail about everything going on in his life, and Jordana wondered if she should become a therapist. Nah, being a fighter earned her way more sex appeal with the ladies, so she'd have to keep listening and pretend she knew what to say. 

 

Wait. Did Merritt just call Troy hot? Jordana felt her eyes widen, and judging by the look on Merritt's face, he did. He was blushing uncontrollably, and seemed ready to drown himself in his drink. The pale young man was turning redder than Yackley's "Christmas" lights, and cycling through more expressions and expletives than most fighters did in battle. His hands flying around him, Merritt was a damn hurricane and he needed to be stopped before he did any damage. 

 

Jordana pondered how she could help him. She feared Merritt could be taken advantage of again. Damen still seemed "fond" (Jordana scowled) of Merritt, and when Mercury liked something, it was because he could USE it. If there was any chance Damen was using Merritt to get close to Samsid and his prized general, then she'd need to know what his intentions were. "Merritt." "What?" the flustered blonde man looked at his friend, looking more confused than ever. "Are you still talking to him?" "Troy?" "Mercury." Merritt's face darkened, brows furrowing as he remembered his affair with Mercury. "No, but I might need to." "For what? What can he give you that the South or I can't access for you?" Jordana reasoned, trying to get her friend to cut the ties. It would be easier to get him to "ghost" Mercury rather than let an all out war happen. As far as she knew, Mercury was still pissed with Samsid's acquisition of Merritt, and if Merritt was still loyal...that would be a problem. TBC.


	12. Levitation, Hesitation Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Troy's perspective, breaking and making bonds, and poison?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! :)

Jordana walked over to Samsid's quarters, only to find a flustered Pogo wringing his hands and...were those muscles? She felt herself smile, proud to see her least favorite fighter was improving in strength. Then she saw Samsid. 

 

He looked beat. He didn't have any real marks around him, spare for a few traces of charcoal around his mouth. Immediately confused and worried, Jordana asked 

 

"He didn't attempt, did he? Because that doesn't sound like Samsid. This must have been an attempted assassination. Bastards..." rambling on in an agitated fit, Jordana didn't look at Pogo for a solid minute. Then she heard a whimper. 

 

Pogo was crying. He was paler than ever, but his dark circles were stronger somehow. The stark contrast wasn't healthy, and speaking of unhealthy - Pogo was crying black tears. Jordana suddenly felt as though a current was pulling on her. 

 

_"Mommy? Why is that man crying blood?" Six year old Jordana was walking through a rough part of the West with her mother. She was the only kid she knew, and with her mother as her only source of information, she thought Mama knew all the answers._

_Jordana's mother clenched up, her posture shrinking and locking into a small, defensive position. Mama didn't look happy, she seemed scared and...mad? That wasn't good._

_"I'm sorry, mommy. I didn't mean to make you upset," apologized Jordana, hoping her mother would cheer up soon and maybe go visit a friend she'd met once or twice. 'Littlehands' was his name, although Jordana didn't believe it was real._

_Jordana's mother suddenly pulled her into a small corner of the alley they were walking past, leaning down towards her child's ears._

 

_"He's possessed, and I don't want you going near him."_

_"He owns what?" Jordana asked, her little eyebrows furrowing in dismay. The man just looked sick, not like he owned something to make him sick._

_"He is possessed. By a demon." Her mother seemed ready to bolt._

_"A de-mon? What are those and why does he have one?"_

_"It's the worst kind of monster there is, and he doesn't have one - it has HIM." Clarified her mom._

_"Can it get to me? Can he get rid of it?" Jordana stumbled over words, feeling anxious that she might get caught, too._

_"No. Not as long as you have this on you." Jordana's mother passed Jordana a small cross, wrapping it around her child's neck._

_"As long as you can die, you'll be safe from them."_

_Jordana smiled, feeling much safer. Her mommy was the smartest lady in the world, so if mommy said she would be safe, then so it would be._

 

_A week later mommy died._

_Jordana walked in on her mother's dead body, surrounded by men with evil in their eyes and black tears. She knew what to do. She ran towards the makeshift kitchen, grabbing the sharpest knife she could find, and slashed all of them as best she could, getting several cuts on her face as she fought. Jordana remembered what her mother said, keeping the small cross around her neck and continuing to slice the men open, watching them bleed a black ooze._

_None of them made it._

_Three days later, Jordana was living with mommy's friend, Littlehands, and he taught her more about self defense. He still loved her like a big brother, and told her no matter what, to be proud of her scars. They were a sign she fought and was alive._

 

Jordana opened her eyes, Pogo hyperventilating above her. She must have passed out, and her head hurt like hell. SHe stared at her friend, knowing he wasn't doing well, and it looked like she needed that cross again. Touching her neck, she felt where the necklace used to be and remembered she had the small tattoo embedded in her skin. It wasn't going anywhere. She wouldn't need mama's help this time. 

Sensing that only Samsid and Pogo needed containment, Jordana made the best decision she could. 

She reached up to her scared friend, standing up. Holding him by his shoulders and whispering he was gonna be okay, she leaned back and punched him. K.O. 

 

Jordana: 1, Pogo: 0. 

 

She felt guilty, but continued to do her job. Jordana swore, she could be running this Kingdom so much better, but being the boss behind the scenes was infinitely safer. 

Opening her phone, she called one of Merritt's friends in the North. She'd need some serious medicine and a trustworthy ally. 

 

This was gonna be so fucked up. 

 

 

Troy was pacing back and forth in his room. As a general, he got his own space to sleep in, and had maps all over the walls. The past nine months of battle history and political moves made by all sides of the Spheres were kept logged next to his main one, and he'd been flipping through them tonight, trying to get himself back to focusing. 

 

What had he said to Merritt again? Oh, god. He totally went off on one of his power play moves, and the split second of Merritt's face told him he'd crossed a line. Merritt had turned red instantly, but it was probably him being pissed off. 

Gah, why did Merritt make things so confusing? He was always close to Merritt before he'd...well, had to capture him by order of Samsid, and on the day of that plan's announcement, he had practically jumped with glee. Merritt was going to get to live with him! They'd share the same sphere, Merritt would be considered higher class and would actually get the respect he deserved. He'd get to work out with Merritt, shower with (well, next to) Merritt, and sleep in the same common room during emergency events! This would be so cool!

 

Then came the shitty part. 

 

Samsid told Troy to break Merritt. And ooh, boy, was that not good. 

 

Firstly it was awkward, because Troy felt like he was betraying Merritt, even though Damen Mercury betrayed the East in the first place. Secondly, it was awkward because it seemed like both of them were _kinda_ getting off on it. Thirdly, at this point, Troy was convinced Merritt would never be with him, so he interrogated the living shit out of him. If he couldn't be with Merritt then goddamnit, people would think he was by all the information he knew. 

 

_ANSWER ME! Shouted Troy, his voice echoing in the dark chamber. Merritt had been in solitary for over a month now, and was showing immense resilience. Troy just wanted this to be over, for Merritt to finally accept Samsid as his new King, but Merritt was so damn devoted that he hadn't been broken yet. If only Merritt had just switched like Troy had wanted him to. Then none of this would have been necessary. 'Necessary?' A voice in his mind floated in. 'I think we both know what you're doing isn't necessary.'_

_Troy swore, hitting Merritt's back harder, eliciting a whimper of pain. He felt so guilty for liking that sound, and tried to convince himself Merritt was okay. (Little did he know Merritt would have enjoyed most of this in a different setting)._

_Slapping Merritt's back harder, this time with the back of his hand, Troy heard a whisper._

_"I pledge myself to..." and the voice faded out. Was Merritt about to change sides? Troy perked his ears, hoping this would be over soon._

_"Who? Who do you pledge yourself to? Who is your King?" Troy asked, in a serious tone of voice._

_His excitement betrayed him._

_"Damen...Mercury..." choked out Merritt, looking ready to burst into tears._

_And here we go again..._

 

 

Troy heard a knock on his door, and fumbling with the belt lock on his pants, he said "Just a minute." 

The door opened, and in walked Jordana, looking ashen. She perused the room for a moment, taking in the scenery...looking for evidence. 

When she didn't find anything, she asked Troy, "Have you seen Samsid?" 

"Of course I have. He sent me after Merritt to get him to "do his job". I'm always cleaning up after that good-for-nothing Northern slacker." Troy scowled, missing Jordana's knowing smirk. 

"No, I mean have you seen him since? He looks awful, and I'm calling in a doctor." 

 

Troy paused. "Did he catch something? I swear, I told him that Catholic boy was carrying some kind of disease. I mean, no one that age and sex is so scrawny!" Troy exclaimed, seeing Jordana shake her head. 

 

"From the looks of it, no. And with the way he's been acting, he's not getting any action still. I think he was poisoned by something. He looked exhausted, and had some charcoal dust around his mouth. Pogo was covered in the stuff, so he must have run to our heating room to fetch it. I can't imagine what walking in on a poisoned King must have done to him." Jordana shook her head, hoping Pogo wasn't too traumatized. If her theory was right, then Samsid might need up to two weeks to fully recover, and Pogo's tears were just mixed with soot from fetching the coal. Yes, this sounded right. But there must have been something missing. How did Pogo get so shredded so quickly? And what exactly did Samsid eat or drink to cause such a severe reaction? 

 

Troy nodded, agreeing with her theory. Jordana was usually right, and something strange was going on. 

 

TBC.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	13. Levitation, Hesitation Pt 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jordana's contacts and Merritt

OK, so Jordana may have lied. Her contact wasn't actually still IN the North, but Iris was a seriously great candidate for help...plus they'd spend more than a few nights

together talking at Yackley's about the Underground cards. They were acquaintances, but on good enough terms to ask and return favors for one another. Jordana just hoped

Iris would be able to help her with Pogo.

 

"Iris - P and S need you - something's wrong. Meet me at Yackley's. C U there."

 

Jordana cringed a little at the text slang, but she had to finish typing before she got approached by a young fighter who wanted to know about her scars. She politely declined

to tell the stories, but encouraged the fighter to become an officer so he'd "have clearance". There, that'd do it. Anything to get the rookies motivated, and keep them off her

back until she was sure they were trustworthy. Most of her scars DID come from battle, but a few here and there maaaaay have come from her pet kitty, Chroma. Chroma

had been hers for the past four years, a Russian blue mix with a white tummy and sock-paws. Jordana got permission from Samsid to keep her in a separate dorm so she'd

be safe (some fighters got shitfaced easily and she did NOT trust drunks near her beloved kitty cat), after an incident where a blond fighter got a little too close to Chroma

with his fighting gear.

 

 _Ding_.

 

Iris had already gotten back to Jordana with a brief emoji of a snake. 

 

Good. 

 

 

 

Speeding out of the East Sphere en route to Yackley's, Jordana pondered her situation and her options. Her hair fluttered slightly in the wind, and she briefly looked up at the

fake moon and sky made in the Underground. It was almost beautiful if you didn't know its purpose. She grimaced, remembering how as a child she'd been told that the sky

was fake but realistic enough, so whenever new arrivals came here, they would feel more safe and wouldn't lose it. She doubted the sky worked. The Underground was a

prison of sorts, a really large prison the size of Michigan. It was a bitch and a half to live in, and she needed to get out someday, or fix it. One of these days, she would. One

day...thought Jordana as she pulled up to her East Sphere parking zone at Yackley's. She saw Iris' motorcycle, and immediately smiled. It still had the small sticker she'd put

on it when she first met Iris, as a little joke. The back of Iris' bike had a medical snake and wings, and Jordana had put a teeny smiley face over the snake's features, to make

it look happy. It was barely noticeable, but once seen you could never look at the bike the same way. It was a reminder of the good in the Underground. The people who

cared. 

 

Parking her bike and stepping onto the asphalt ground, Jordana retied her hair and straightened out her appearance to look as nonchalant as possible. Deliberately leaving a

few strands loose to seem as though she just came for a drink, she confidently strode in and upon seeing Iris, twitched her eyebrow slightly. It would look like an involuntary

reflex, but it was a signal to get maximum privacy in their covered booth. Iris touched her left ear, moving her dark hair out of the way to send back the message that yes,

she would pull the curtains. 

 

After the velvet soundblocking curtains were drawn, Jordana began talking. She didn't show it outside the tented booth, but she was nervous. 

 

"I think Pogo has some kind of disease, and that King Samsid was poisoned." She sputtered out, concern overwhelming her normally cocky-flirtatious tone. 

 

"Tell me more. What kind of symptoms led you to this conclusion?" Iris pressed, folding her hands together and resting her chin on them. She leaned forward and was

very intrigued. 

 

"Pogo was standing over King Samsid after...an intimate moment," Jordana blushed, explaining Samsid had finally kissed Pogo or vice versa and went on. 

 

"Then I came back a few minutes later, and Pogo was full of energy. He was...radiant, which is super bizarre because he's normally so...ragged looking..." Mentally

apologizing to her scrawny, Italian-American friend, Jordana continued.

 

"Samsid looked a lot like Pogo did earlier, it was like his muscle strength...well, some of it, had transferred to Pogo and Pogo had drained Samsid of energy. Is there any type

of engineered virus that can do that?" 

 

Iris looked grimly at Jordana and whispered, "Have you considered something has Pogo? It may explain why your King is so fond of him, despite his weakness and if he's

always drained but sleeps a lot like you said, we may be dealing with something...more sinister than a lab-based weapon." The creases in Iris's face deepened, and she looked

genuinely worried. Then, as if something had shocked her, she sat up and placed her hands flat on the table. With a wide grin, she looked Jordana right in the eyes and said: 

I know what to do." 

 

Jordana breathed a sigh of relief, and continued to listen to her excited friend. It sounded like a bunch of psuedo-scientific and superstitious practices made into a

hodgepodge, but if Iris's experiment were to work...then Pogo may be better able to control his powers and Samsid could fully recover. The only problem was that it would

take time, and witnessing of a certain event. Something so shocking, that Pogo would trigger a response in his system which would knock him into a demonic state - but he

would be catatonic. It was very challenging to do, but Jordana had a plan. 

 

Shaking her friend's hand, Jordana was grateful for the talk and thanked Iris profusely, telling her how much she hoped she was right. She had to rush home. There was a lot

to do. 

 

 

 

                                                                                                       Meanwhile, in Merritt-world

 

Running his fingers through his hair, Merritt wondered how he was going to do this. He was standing outside the East Sphere General's strategy room. If he should do this. He didn't really know what to do about his feelings, other than try

and see how he could gauge Troy's intentions. 

 

This was going to be interesting. 

 

Walking into Troy's office without being ordered was a huge risk, it was incredibly rude and if things went wrong, Merritt could get punished...Blushing at the word, Merritt

almost walked away. He really had been too long without a serious boyfriend. At this point he'd scratched out the small tattoo on his finger, leaving only smooth skin broken

by a small scar, even less noticeable than the tattoo. He was proud to say he'd moved on, even if he couldn't say it to anyone. It would be better for no one else to know. 

 

With a quick breath, Merritt smoothed his plain clothes and grabbed the doorknob. 

 

The fuck? 

 

It was locked. Oh, great. Troy was definitely in there, and Merritt knew Samsid and no one else was in there, so this was going to suck even more. 

 

He knocked, his slim but solid knuckles making a moderately painful impact. 

 

No answer. 

 

Pressing the side of his head to the door, Merritt could have sworn he'd heard a...sniffle? Either Troy was getting a cold, which was laughable in itself, or Troy was actually

emotional about something. Probably the first option. Not wanting to miss seeing the grumpy general carrying a box of Kleenex, Merritt eagerly knocked again. 

 

The door opened. 

 

Troy was standing tall, looking as intimidating and buff as ever. Yep, he'd definitely packed on more muscle since Merritt first met him. The contours of his plain suit made

that VERY clear. Trying not to flush (which was very hard as Merritt was exceptionally pale), Merritt brought himself to look into Troy's eyes. What? That was odd. They seemed...strained. Troy wasn't the type to do drugs, or to become ill easily, so Merritt asked: 

 

"Are you okay?" 

 

He completely forgot all of his initial focus, and chastised himself for not helping sooner. Reaching up, before Troy had even responded, Merritt felt the strong man's warm

forehead and clammy face. Yep, he was sick. 

 

Suddenly, Troy's eyes squinted and he backed away from Merritt. His lip trembling and voice cracking, (which was exceptionally rare for Troy) he said,

 

"No. I'm not. I just found out my friend died." 

 

Merritt gaped. His jaw went slack and his eyes were incredibly wide. He should have known Troy had friends. OK, maybe Troy did come off as a bit of an asshole sometimes, but he was still human. _Despite those godly abs..._ Merritt mentally facepalmed, and reminded his sex drive to keep itself in check. 

 

Taking a giant risk, Merritt pushed Troy into his office and locked the door. He grabbed the taller man, and hugged him tightly. Troy was still a bit tense and frozen up, but 

after a few moments, he delicately raised his hands and hugged Merritt back warmly. Merritt said, "I'm sorry. I can't fix this or make it better, but I promise you're going to

be okay." Merritt was trying to hard to focus, but Troy's scent was pervasive and rather...dominating, in quite a good way. Merritt quivered slightly, and mentally screamed at

his weakness for strong and intelligent men. _Goddamnit, get it together! He's probably been teary all evening._

 

When Merritt tried to end the hug (it had been over a minute), he felt Troy's strong arms squeezing him in place. _Not_ _yet_ , his mind muttered to him. Now was the time to

soothe Troy, to be that rock that he must have just lost. 

 

 

 

 

Troy's mind was spinning. Missing his former fighter, aptly nicknamed "Knifey" was a big hit to the heart. He'd known him since he was fifteen, and in the Underground, that

was a rarity. People either died or became enemies. No one knew his Knifey's real name was John. Or that he'd been a lot like Pogo. It was an unexpected friendship, but

that's what made it all the better. Troy remembered sitting with Knifey a few weeks ago, and talking to him about his premonition that something was going to change in the

Underground. He'd meant a new war, but he didn't realize he'd lose his best friend. 

 

And somehow, having Merritt in his arms just then seemed to be soothing him. Things were going to be okay. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	14. Colorblind (Merritt's Perspective)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merritt quickly begins to dance against his teammates and under the watchful eye of Jordana, he becomes aware of his talent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey nerds~ I am back and ready for business - this chapter is going to be a three part-er, maybe four? It's going to be fun and hopefully you'll dig it as much as I do. After this we'll get back into the Samsid x Pogo stuff ;) I promise, I haven't forgotten about our babies! <3

Merritt froze.  "You'll see what I mean in due time." Said Jordana, the world in slow motion. 

 

Jordana had just explained the competition the fighters would be undergoing - and all Merritt knew was that he was screwed. Here he was, segregated from the other fighters not only from heritage of the North sphere, but his leotard was deliberately dyed to show off that he was WEAK. Now he had eight grueling hours a day to learn and prove himself to be special quality, or he would be sent to remediation and could be demoted. Merritt REALLY needed a promotion, so he forced himself to calm down and breathed in, absorbing his surroundings. Looking to his fellow fighters, Merritt noticed that the brightest dyed leotards were on the strongest men. Bright red leotards were followed by sunflower yellows, and black outfits. Black tights and leotards were supposed to be competitiors of another kind as well, and there were a few mixed color schemes -  _some type of hybrid,_ _maybe_? Seeing the slightly weaker colors, Merritt began to estimate which people he could beat and paid attention so he could learn their weaknesses. Every color meant someone had two strengths, and a weakness. Greens seemed to be nimble and poised - but inflexible. Reds were strong and powerful but unbalanced, and the dancers in black...Hmmm. 

 

Jordana began drilling the men on the five positions of ballet. Merritt was good at drills, so he picked up the motions quickly and managed to add in some of his own flair to prevent himself from appearing too mechanical. Ahead of him, two men in green were kicked out because their stretches weren't good enough. As the majority of the men would drill each side of the basics, Jordana would travel down the lines of barres to inspect flexibility and balance. As she approached Merritt, Merritt knew he had to push himself harder than he had ever before. Lifting his leg onto the barre a few paces before Jordana reached him, Merritt leaned across his leg and felt the stretch deeply. Jordana removed three more men in his row, and told Merritt he did acceptably. 

 

Breathing a sigh of relief, Merritt continued practicing until the bell above the door rang. Someone new had entered! Ooh, this is gonna be good! Thought Merritt, gleefully hoping the late arrival would take any heat or attention off him. He wasn't quite ready to shine just yet. As the door opened further, Merritt saw something that was absolutely not fair. In a deep indigo tanktop, Troy entered the room looking beastly as hell. His hair was slightly curled with the humidity of the room and hallway outside, and it was definitely a good look. When Troy was sorted to his row (he was sent to the hybrid line), Merritt didn't realize he was staring until Troy caught his eyes and frowned. 

Shit. It was not a good time to be on Troy's bad side. By the looks of it, he and Jordana had chummed up and Troy was...really good at dancing! Jesus ass that man was flexible...Oh, no. Problem time. Merritt kicked himself for getting distracted, and then something strange happened. Slamming down the staff onto the floor and ordering the music off - Jordana told the groups she would pick one from each line to get ready to move to the next classroom over. With eight lines left in total, Merritt hoped the next part would be easier than everything else today, but knowing her - Jordana was ready to torture him some more. 

At a much faster pace, Jordana played the music for warmups and dented the floor with her staff. Brutally abusing the floorboards, Jordana walked through the red and yellow lines and chose her men. A strong, red dancer with a confident stance and exceptional presence made the cut. He was followed by a fluid black, and a graceful green.  _Shit_. The next line was of the hybrids, and Troy was selected. _Oh, no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no._  Troy was already hard to beat, and with their newly developing bond, Merritt wasn't sure of himself in front of Troy anymore. He was used to having to stand up to him, not work with him and understand him. 

Now Jordana was in his line, and Merritt waited for her to choose the man in front of him. He had a pale blue leotard and slightly darker tights, so he must have had some form of strength Merritt didn't. Jordana raised her staff, pointed to the man and said, "You need to strengthen your ankles, Gus. Other than that you did fantastically, but we need to build you up so you don't get injured. You'll go to a different remediation room and won't be demoted." 

"Merritt!" Barked Jordana. 

"Yes, sir." Replied Merritt, being as respectfully submissive as possible. 

"Due to Gus' condition, you're going to come with our elites for our final two parts of competition. Don't let me down, or you'll get demoted." Said Jordana, her eyes intense with support. 

 

Merritt was beginning to feel ready, until she told him of the solo rounds. 


	15. Vision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To be a little more specific, this is probably going to be a three part chapter. Enjoy! Also, after this and the next few chaps with Samsid and Pogo...there might be some significant plot happening ;) this was initially going to go for thirty chapters, but now I'm thinking more in the range of 60 to 80. Remember, reviews are appreciated, any form of feedback is loved and I am so happy to be writing again! <3 <3 <3

Troy was pissed as a cat dunked in cold water, and anyone who saw him could have sworn he'd had steam coming out of his ears. Much like a Popeye cartoon, Troy looked buffer when mad or determined, and by God he was BOTH right now. Jordana had told him she heard about "Knifey" (John) and felt he needed a distraction. Troy said he was fine, but when Jordana explained she had a good exercise program he could do to pass the time and get stronger - the alpha male couldn't pass it up. Jordana brought him into what looked like a studio, and asked him to dance to the music she was about to play. 

 

Troy didn't balk at the idea - he used to be quite practiced in dancing, because in the Surface he lived with a rich family who forced him to take lessons. Granted, they were only supposed to be for cotillion, but Troy used it carefully, was a bit of an easier way to meet guys like him, but who were prettier and graceful. Once Troy had a fellow dancer in a higher level class than him, and he was absolutely gorgeous. The boy was quite a bit younger than him and poorer, but made up for his lack of wealth in his skill of dance. The lean and lithe young man would leap impressively and despite the stigma of dancing like a female ballerina, still managed to do grand jetes and land beautifully. Troy especially loved watching him during the winter season of dance, as the boy would wear adorable sweater like clothes and twirl around and around, never losing balance. His muscle tone was amazing, and the agility and calculation in all of his moves left Troy infatuated. 

That next spring, Troy never saw the boy again, as he was deported to the Underground for petty crime. Something about stealing food from a grocery store. Troy never got over it, and blamed himself for the boy's disappearance. With his allowance and money from work, Troy could have easily fed the young man and kept him around...but he never had the guts to speak to him. From that point on, Troy told himself that he would never let another man into his heart. Especially if he couldn't talk to him, that would just be too painful. He needed the confidence and stability of a man to have such a wondrous partner.

Then Troy met Merritt. There were those similar features, developed into a man's face and figure. He had striking features, and walked smoothly, a bit too smoothly for a veteran of the war for the East (when Mercury teamed up with Samsid). But Merritt was different. He wasn't delicate, he was strong and confident and a total asshole sometimes. He'd always say the most brilliant plans when Troy was the general, and when someone (cough cough Pogo) "important" needed protecting, Samsid seemed to have more trust in the weaker, younger man. 

 

 

Troy pulled on his workout gear. Luckily for him, he had stood up to Jordana and she had enough respect for him to let him wear his running leggings and a tanktop. _The tanktop was pushing it,_ thought Troy, but he knew he must put up with Jordana's antics if he was going to maintain the respect of the men. _Lead by example._

 

Troy walked into the gigantic studio with dozens of his fighters already standing in the hallway facing remediation. Littlehands was teaching all of them the basic positions, and from the looks of it the men were beginning to learn. Some female fighters were there, too - but the women of the East tended to be better physically coordinated leaders, and it looked like Jordana had brought some girls in for instruction. 

 

Standing in the well-lit room with about half of his fighters, Troy was feeling confident. He got to wear his normal clothes, while it seemed most of the other men were...color coordinated? What was that about? Troy wondered, thinking - Jordana couldn't have just bought this stuff in bulk? Looking closely at his peers, Troy noticed the patterns that were obvious first. Red men were tough, greens were unbalanced and so on and so forth. Gazing across the rows of barres Jordana had the men set up, he searched for a person he didn't want to admit he was looking for. 

 

While he walked over to where Jordana pointed him to go, Troy finally caught Merritt and felt his brows crease. Something looked oddly familiar about Merritt, now. 

 

Troy knew he'd be selected by Jordana, not just because they had agreed beforehand his experience was phenomenal - but because Jordana seemed to want to help Troy with his problem person. Merritt. Merritt was practicing all five positions with gusto, and his expression was fiercely beautiful. He had that same determination as the young man Troy once knew, and it seemed a form of muscle memory was coming into play...

 

"Merritt!" Barked Jordana. 

 

Troy smiled, seeing the gentle behavior Merritt used to his advantage come out. Jordana seemed to be whispering something to him, but what was it? Troy saw Merritt's jaw drop and his eyes open into a shocked expression. Maybe it wasn't his most handsome look, but it _was_ cute as fuck. Troy chuckled, and burned the picture into his mind. It wasn't everyday you saw a former North Sphere general look like a surprised guppy! 

 

Jordana moved the elite group into the different studio. It was much smaller, and her instruction began to get much more rigorous. Starting now, Troy realized that the men would need to be making as many pirouettes within the enclosed space without bumping into their competitors. Troy could do this easily enough, but he wasn't entirely sure about his men. The man in red began to turn green after three pirouettes, and had to be sat down to regain focus. Jordana told him his stomach would be fine, but that he would need to take some time outside to catch his breath and sip some water. He nodded, moving outside and freeing up some more room for the dancers. 

 

After five pirouettes, a green dancer began to try and do two in a row, and knocked into the dancer in black. Both were eliminated for spatial awareness and imbalance. Neither man seemed too upset, though. As they walked out, Troy could have sworn he'd seen them 'fist bump', mouthing 'Freedom!' Smiling to himself, Troy was started by Jordana when she ordered him to spin and not stop. Troy made it to seven pirouettes, a feat impressive considering the change in his build - he was a LOT more shredded as an adult than he had been as a teenager - and Jordana halted him. At the moment, there were only three dancers left. Troy, Merritt and a man in a yellow leotard. 

 

The real fight was about to begin. 


	16. Vision Pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ooh la la dramaaaa~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been one hell of a year so far, so thanks for continuing to support this. I can't tell how many people have actually gotten up to this point, but thank you so much again. This webcomic means the world to me, and knowing I've made different people happy or at least feel something because of my work (maybe even if they don't like it) is so profound. <3

Merritt was ready for the most awkward dance battle ever. Never in his life, did Merritt ever think that he would have to DANCE to keep his damn position as a loser of the East Sphere. This was beyond stupid, and Merritt thought Jordana must've gotten into Samsid's drinks' cabinet for something this weird to happen. As if she could hear his thoughts, Jordana tapped Merritt on the shoulder with her staff and ordered him to choose his music. 

 

"What style?" Asked Merritt, hoping for a word that started with "f" and ended with "e". 

 

"Freestyle. After this, your ability will be judged by your peers who have since completed mastery, and you'll be up for promotion. Since Troy is your superior, you can't go a level above him, but since you're such a low status, any improvement you get is great."

 

Winking slightly, Jordana added, "He can't get demoted because of his loyalty for the King, but you can try your best to beat him." 

 

Well, fuck. Now Merritt had to handle dancing in front of hundreds of his peers in his leotard, unless... "Jordana?" Merritt asked carefully.  "Yep?" She responded, smirking as if she knew what was coming next.

 

  "Is it okay if I wear something different from my leotard? It might look...ahem, see through on stage and I'm already pale as it is. I don't want to blind anyone." Merritt half-joked, hoping his charm would gain him something better to wear.

 

Turning away from him to think, Jordana wondered what would benefit the plan King Samsid and her had come up with...Would it be better to distract Troy with Merritt's physique, or counterproductive? Hmmm...

 

 Peering over her shoulder, Merritt popped his head up and asked, "Is that silence a yes?" with strained hope rising in his chest.

 

 "Sure." Answered Jordana, "Just keep it true to your character - that is, without the Northern influence.”

 

 Merritt was so stoked, it was finally his time to win.

 

 

                                                     XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

Something was different in the East sphere. Not only were there spontaneous dance classes held by a barely eighteen year old (admittedly badass) leading fighter, but there seemed to be more of a sense of teamwork and companionship within the fighting sphere's squads. Even the rookies were bonding more than previously, and all of this buddying up was increasing resolve and moral support. It was great - for the East.

 

In the West, Bardia was scowling like the bitter asshole he was. Well, asshole was an understatement - the guy literally enslaved people in the sex trade for a living and was a

notorious dickwad when it came to his "property", which as you may have figured out - was people. The scumbag was sitting in his throne-room, surrounded by male and female concubines who were more than happy to 'entertain' him - hey, not everyone was against his lifestyle - but despite his success in maintaining stability through the rise of the New East under Samsid, Bardia was not happy. Something wrong was going on in the Underground, and it was hard to pinpoint the root cause. Figuring he should construct a timeline and make sense of all of this, Bardia shooed his admirers away and began working on a basic cause and effect timeline. The trouble wasn't recalling when things happened, it was trying to make sense of WHY things happened the way they did. Ever since the Renaissance of the East Sphere, Bardia had new competition. After Cannon was murdered by an upstart named Samsid - the Underground had become more...on edge. Cannon wasn't someone to be fucked with, and as soon as he was eliminated it was expected that Mercury would take over. Bardia marked a dash along the line, dating it and writing "revolution/unrest". Mercury had attempted to overtake the New East, but due to a strategic mistake he lost his best general (Merritt) and hundreds of fighters. Somehow, Bardia thought - Samsid must have started his revolution deeper in the East than it seemed. A superficial uprising should have fallen to the more authoritarian regime that Mercury had...But it didn't. Jasper Samsid was paranoid, a fact Bardia knew well as his "queen/right hand man" card was empty, but the bastard sure was confident. What made him so sure of himself, yet unsure of others? It was challenging to get the trust of the newest king, and Bardia had been tempted to send in spies...But with the way Merritt was shaping up, it seemed impossible to win the man's 

confidence. 

  
Shortly after the revolution and attempt at expansion from the Northern Sphere, Bardia had a strange instance within his kingdom. A pale, dark-haired young man fell from above - quite literally - into his Sphere and managed to resist arrest  _ and _ escape with some kind of rodent! Initially, Bardia figured that this man would be easy to return to his rightful place as a West Sphere Dog - it was his territory after all - but for whatever reason Samsid had refused to give the man back. According to Yackley's customers from the East, they had no prior knowledge of one another and were rarely seen together - but were somehow expected to be very close already. Ignoring the obvious that Samsid was super gay and in denial, Bardia had attempted once more to get the brat away from Jasper's side - not only for territorial reasons, but to see just what kind of power he must have held. He was very weak and looked fatigued, but since Jasper kept him so close he must have some kind of value like knowledge or...supernatural ability... Marking a few more lines as he went, Bardia began to see a pattern unfolding in his tapestry-like timeline. Yes, something had changed in the Underground...And that something was named Pogo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment with reviews/notes/wants. I've got an overall arch for this story and where I think it's going to go, it's going to be LONG TERM, so any prompts for development are totally accepted! I really need to hear feedback!


	17. Colors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final two dances are about to happen. Tension is thick, and can only be cut by the chainsaw of love. 
> 
>  
> 
> what am i saying
> 
>  

Jordana had spent all night working on the makeshift stage in the studio/warehouse she and the fighters had been using for the past two weeks. Her novice fighters had been

ordered to clean the floors repeatedly until they were smooth and safe for large performances - as all but one crudely constructed barre had been removed. Pretty much

nothing except bare bones of a structure was left, and through some extensive wiring and speaker attaching (hey, the South sphere was great for luxury goods), an arena

had been made. Now was the fun part. Eliminations had already taken place, and many of the fighters had been chuckling to see that their proud general was actually quite

good at dancing - but were disappointed to hear his decision to not compete in the solo rounds.

 

In order to fix that problem, Jordana had decided that pure crowd reaction would determine if Merritt would be promoted or kicked out of the New East. Fortunately for her,

this restored the hype needed for the show to go on. Many of the men were already more fit than before and had gained the benefits needed, so for them to get some

entertainment AND have a say - this was a big deal. Unfortunately for Merritt, despite his jaw-dropping features and skill - he still had the reputation of a Northern ex-

general. His questionable loyalty to Samsid seemed to rely heavily on his friendship with Pogo, and if that ended...well, things could go awry quite quickly. 

 

Nervously Merritt stretched, preparing his lithe figure that would determine his future. Either he'd go home a champion, or...he'd end up as a dog in the West or homeless in

the South. Trying to breathe, Merritt chose to meditate and visualized his steps he needed to take to get himself where he'd win. The only problem was Troy. Ever since

they'd spent more time together talking about John, Merritt had felt his strange attraction to the brutal general growing further. It was like moss on a stone - Merritt had

stopped rolling so the feelings began to grow. Think, thought Merritt as he tried to get the steps in order. He'd practiced for hours since this morning, pirouetting a dozen

times and not falling. It had been so long since he had danced this regularly, and the balance he'd retained genuinely surprised him. Back when he was a kid, he lived in poor

conditions and dyed his hair to prevent unwanted attention from coming towards him. Recalling details of his past was always painful, but Merritt found himself smiling as he

remembered the few friends he had in dance classes. Several girls teased him to get his attention when he started in a large class, but eventually they gave up when the

sculpted and shy boy didn't return their affection. There was only ever one person who paid consistent attention to him, and oddly enough it was when he was alone. Merritt

vaguely pictured the boy who had stared at him, suit and all. He had a strong build and wide shoulders, which made Merritt blush. Damn the dance studio mirrors, they made

it so hard to conceal anything. 

 

The boy had gazed at him further during the winter, and Merritt wondered if he knew him from somewhere. Obviously they wouldn't have attended the same school, but

perhaps he had been in one of his first classes? Maybe that was it! Continuing to pirouette, Merritt slipped back to modern day. He had been living in the Underground for the

better part of a decade, and had not seen that young man since. He was probably married by now, with small children equally spoiled. Merritt still frowned at the loss of a 

potential friend, until he stopped and saw what looked like a ghost. 

Putting his left leg to the ground, Merritt saw Troy with a frazzled expression on his face. He began walking over to talk to him, but was cut off by Jordana telling him to

prepare to be on stage. Merritt decided he would talk to Troy later and see if he was okay, and began to feel the buzz of pre-performance excitement. It was finally time. 

 

Jordana signaled to her assistant to start the music. Merritt's song was about to play, and it was going to be amazing. She would enjoy these last few hours of power abuse, 

before Samsid returned the next day. Sobering up, she felt grateful for Iris' help and nursing Samsid back to health. As for Pogo...he would need some talking to. 

 

The music began. 


	18. Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The "daddy issues" dance 
> 
>  
> 
> guys my descriptions don't mean shit lmao 
> 
>  
> 
> the twink + bear combo is always the best

The intro music played, and as Merritt took his second step onto the stage the lights blared and he felt a slight tug at his ankle. Annie was nipping at his feet and wanted attention, so he scooped her up and presented her "Lion King" style, which resulted in cheering from the crowd. Merritt WAS a strategic genius after all, and that move was likely to win him some approval even before he began dancing. Over the cacophonous cheering he shouted for Jordana, and she came out from behind the curtain to fetch the sweet rodent. The top-fighter’s hair was styled in a braid that had lots of scars showing, and from the glow she radiated - it was clear she'd had a great past two weeks. She muttered to him that he had two minutes to get himself together. 

 

Jordana raised her microphone above her head and began to speak. The crowd's roaring died down, and Merritt began to notice how much effort had gone into this entire effort. New East flags were everywhere, and the sphere's fighters had their best attire on - wearing the red ties assigned to them. It was another reminder of how emotional their killing was - it wasn't without method, but when the New East fought, it was for a reason. The significance made Merritt gulp, and before he knew it, it was time to start. 

The song he had chosen was a bit risky, as Britney Spears was considered out of date for the Sphere Age, but the message it would send was accurate to Merritt's emotions and he wanted to play up on those. Perfect form would impress, but in a crowd of emotionally driven people, it would be better to use that emotion to win. With his job on the line, he signaled the sound tech team to start. 

The crowd gasped as they saw Troy step out on stage, dressed in a silver suit with a blue tie. His eyebrows were thicc af and lined in a familiar fashion. Troy’s face makeup was paler and appeared to be wearing a wig...As soon as “Womanizer” began playing, the crowd was dead silent. Merritt was dancing with what was meant to be Damen Mercury. 

Merritt leapt across the stage and began circling “Traymen” as he’d nicknamed his partner since they choreographed the dance. Troy wasn’t supposed to be on stage, but Merritt had the brilliant idea of incorporating him in a way he could use to show allegiance to the New East and gain the respect of his peers which he had never received. Troy was standing confidently and gazing around as though he had a plan to get Merritt, who was clad in black athletic pants and a loose tank top to show of his lithe figure. The bright green shirt drew attention to Merritt and he took advantage of this choice. 

Merritt’s dance was cocky but alluring, and he wore a smirk on his face, folding his arms into a diamond over his head and hip-checked his partner, hard. Troy responded by cooling getting back into position and starting to aggressively move towards Merritt. His body synced with the beat and he threw off his jacket and danced similarly to how male strippers did. He was assertive and confident, showing off his strength while his fitted shirt clung to his skin. 

At one point, Merritt leaned close to Troy and tilted his chin to almost kiss him - but pulled away at the last second and resumed the rest of his dance, beginning to feign a fall where Troy caught him. Merritt stuck true to his theme and rolled his eyes, pulling Troy close and ripping off his velcro tie to reveal the red that the New East proudly wore. Troy’s character began to change and began to show more real confidence that the New East was so proud of. Standing in front of Troy, Merritt began to gyrate and heard the crowd cheering. Merritt felt Troy’s breath on his neck and looked to the side, finding his partner’s wig and removing it. Now the song was about to end and it appeared the political messages had brought smiles throughout the crowd. 

As the last lyrics played out, Merritt grabbed Troy’s face and kissed him - something they hadn’t agreed on. Troy seemed shocked at first but relaxed after a second and they pulled apart. Patting him on the back, Merritt chuckled and saw a faint blush hiding under the remaining makeup left. 

With the crowd still screaming, the lights dimmed and Jordana rushed out on stage. Annie was still in her arms, and seemed excited. The wriggling ferret popped out of Jordana’s arms and ran up to Merritt, looking up at him and clinging to his leg. Taking the not-so-subtle hint, Merritt picked up the beloved pet and cuddled her, while Troy stepped closer to pet her. Jordana raised her microphone again, and the fighters shushed one another for a minute before settling down. 

“New East! We had made this program to improve the skills of our fighters, and through careful elimination this man was chosen. Has he proved himself worthy to be in the New East?” extending the microphone, Jordana held it out to the crowd as if it would make a difference. 

“YES!!!” 

Breathing in a sigh of relief, Merritt relaxed. As he and Troy bowed, Merritt felt a nip from Annie and began to feel dizzy. Seconds later, he collapsed into Troy's arms. Jordana's eyes grew wide and she ordered Troy to take him to Pogo and Samsid's hideaway. Telling the crowd it was probably just stress and the heat from the lights, Jordana soothed the fighters who were concerned and began leading them to the exit. This would probably be another call for Iris, she thought glumly.


	19. Contemplation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> annie gets a treat
> 
>  
> 
> guys I am so sorry for the shit formatting, I've tried everything but for whatever reason ao3 is a butt to me and when I edit stuff on google docs it typically works but didn't this time - _____ -

Samsid snapped out of his flashback. He'd finally been granted the ability to sit at his own table without supervision after the Pogo Incident, and somehow he'd got stuck staring into the eyes of adead fish. His meal made no sense, as the Underground was miles away from oceans but hey, maybe the Great Lakes had some fishies you could put in Jello. You never knew. That, or there was a black market for fish and his sphere was incredibly good at getting those scaly buddies. Samsid heard a small scampering sound, and in burst Annie. 

The happy ferret looked excited to see Samsid, as her eyes were rounder than normal and her upper body was propped up by her back legs. She was quite a bizarre creature, thought Samsid, reaching down to pet the playful animal. She scurried over to his boots, tripping over her tiny feet in the process. Samsid chuckled, and picked her up. She seemed interested in the fish he was about to eat. Samsid looked around quickly to make sure no one saw his weakness for the kind animal, and nudged a piece of the fish to her.  _ A tail fin should keep her happy, _ he thought. As the pushy rodent began to chomp down onto her treat, Samsid's mind drifted back to what had been happening for thepast two weeks. His head hurt trying to process it all. First Pogo came into the sphere, then came onto him after a few months and battles together, and somehow Samsidhad nearly died from making out with the twenty-something year old. Jesus. That boy must be part incubus. Sighing into his palm, Sammy pet Annie and tried to get his mind off the mysterious Surfacer who had fled to his land. 

Their first encounter was unlike anything expected - especially for a Surfacer with no experience in the violent Underground. Somehow Pogo had managed to befriend a

ferret, get captured by the West and then fall out of their hands and escape - ferret included - into the East. When a dog was captured in the West, there was absolutely no

chance of survival, much less escape with sanity. Reflecting further, Samsid couldn't understand Pogo's reaction when they first met. Pogo had snuck into Samsid's quarters,

somehow not noticed the dead bodies on the bed, and wasn't at all intimidated by his presence. As a one hundred and twenty ( _ maybe _ ) pound man who didn't breach six feet,

Pogo should have been terrified upon seeing Samsid's muscular and scarred figure. Even fighters taller than the East King were cautious around him, but somehow he wasn't bothered. If anything he seemed surprised and...perverse. Samsid facepalmed at the memory of Pogo throwing a box at the light switch to confuse him, only to have the light back on in seconds revealing Pogo's hands in his pants. And somehow, he'd managed to evade, sexually harass (although that escape kiss  _ was _ hot) and almost kill the king of the East within five minutes. He had some type of skillset that just couldn't be acquired. He was born with it. 

Ever since Merritt had tried to discover more about Pogo, Samsid had immediately put up his program with Jordana to distract the blonde and his power-hungry

General. Samsid knew when his supporters showed doubt, and he couldn't afford having anyone else know of his secret weapon.  It had only been three weeks since his deal with Bardia and he was itching to use Pogo's demonic powers (although they didn't sound as epic when penis+telekinesis were added into the description). He regretted

burning the book Merritt had snuck into the East, as it likely DID have useful info - but also understood his message was more important. After all, if Samsid had any questions about Demons he could probably ask Queen Freya. As crazy as she seemed, Yackley's Booze Emporium seemed to bring out a wise and cunning side in her that few

had seen. That cunning had made Samsid able to reach Pogo in time before Bardia's abduction was complete, and he owed her for the help. 

Figuring he could buy her drinks or a snack for her parrot, Samsid prepared to give the schedule he'd created for his fighters to Jordana for the rest of the day. He'd have to

check in with her later to see what she was up to. Supposedly there had been a significant boost in morale since she'd taken over, and her strict training regimen he'd been yet to know the details of had gone exceptionally well. Apparently he needed to hear from her personally what she'd done, though. All of the fighters had kept telling him she was brilliant and that he was the best king for letting her take over, and that he'd love the final fight that took place. Naturally Samsid was expecting a bloodbath. 

Jordana was grateful her king had some wine to drink before she sat him down and told him everything she'd been up to. It made the conversation go much more smoothly.

She started out by asking him if he knew of the surface sport of American football. Samsid said he didn't understand it well but knew it consisted of grown men in tights and protective gear chasing one another and a ball called a "pigskin". It sounded interesting enough. Thinking she was going to tell stories of how the sport had bonded the New East fighters, he leaned across their shared table and gestured for her to go on. Jordana smiled casually and continued, asking if he knew of how they could be trained professionally to be coordinated to which he replied, "Yes, I'd imagine they use obstacle courses. But what did you do?" 

Jordana told him and Samsid almost spit out his drink. Choking on the beverage as he tried to swallow, Samsid lost his composure for a second and pounded his fist into his

chest to aid the problem. Jordana was smirking now, looking triumphantly at her king who was hardly spooked by anyone. Leaning back in her chair, she paused until Samsid

had stopped coughing and had gathered himself. 

"They needed the practice. Dance has a lot more discipline than you think, and it had lots of the fighters bond through fun. They've been doing better in their workouts lately

and have gained a further sense of loyalty to the New East with Merritt's work." 

Samsid's eyebrows raised. "Ye got Merritt into this?" 

Jordana laughed and responded "How could I not?!? He's quite the twinkletoes apparently, and you NEED to see this! He got to perform what was meant to be a solo, and

somehow dragged our moody man into it as well. He made quite the political statement!" 

Breathing in, Samsid asked to see the video. 

His scream was muted later that night as Jordana showed him the footage of Merritt and Troy's dance. 


	20. Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pogo wakes up in a cold sweat with a big problem. Or average one. Depends on how you view it ;)
> 
>  
> 
> btw I know this chapter is short but jesus ass this school year is insane halpe me

"Feed, Pogo. FEED..." rumbled a gloomy voice. Pogo opened his eyes, to find himself standing in a dimly lit room, with none other than Father Lawrence standing in his way. The priest was draped in tattered white robes, with ashes streaked across them. Pogo's eyes focused on the garments, noticing small brown dots across the hem of the skirts. These were not the clothes of a godly man, and as Pogo stared he could feel innocent cries coming from each stain - as though a spirit had been trapped inside. Lawrence began walking around Pogo, his footsteps scraping the floor and creating a powerful echo that reverberated across the seemingly endless room. His ragged cloak trailed across the concrete ground, leaving little wisps of material behind him. Pogo felt himself try to move, but was paralyzed.

Father Lawrence had his head bowed as if in prayer, and his eyes were closed. His hands were pressed together and Pogo realized that lent had begun. The timing of Father Lawrence suddenly gained significance. This could be the monster himself, or a form of temptation his inner dark side was trying to manipulate him with. As a good Catholic he was supposed to give up something he wanted for forty days, but as a half-demon...that was going to be hard to do.


	21. The Way I Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pogo's mini chap is getting its second part bc god knows I'm too overworked. 
> 
>  
> 
> UPDATE: There will be a second author coming to help me on this. Even though I'm not getting too many reviews or whatever, I see my hits are increasing which is a good sign. She's gonna help me write chapters more frequently until summer starts so it'll be more frequently updated.
> 
> SECOND UPDATE: There may even be a third co-author!!! Keep ya fingaz crossed!!! <3 <3 <3 Thanks for all the support!

Samsid woke up with a massive headache. He'd fallen asleep at his desk, and had been catching up on plans and going through threats he'd been sent. Usually they were just

some petty merchant wanting attention, but he'd received one with the Northern Sphere insignia stamped inside of it. This meant either someone had stole Mercury's stamp,

or he was getting mail from the dickwad for once. He turned off the light nearest to him and read from the glow of a melting candle across the desk. 

 

Unfolding the letter slowly, Samsid felt its thick material and could smell Mercury's cologne wafting off it. The seawater and musk had always been a bizarre combination, but

it had its signature effect. Sniffling, Samsid wiped his nose and felt his eyes water. Damn, the man had really gone overboard scenting this shit. His eyes opened wide, and

after a minute of reading the king sprinted to Troy's room. 

 

"Find Merritt!" Shouted Samsid as he slammed the heavy metal door behind him. Troy bolted from behind his desk and ran to the emergency broadcast microphone,

unlocking its case and turning it on. A screech echoed throughout the dorms of the East, and Troy briefly adjusted it before commanding. 

 

"Fighters! We have a high risk threat that wishes to take former North General Merritt from the sphere. Find him alive at ALL COSTS! This has been your general." Punching

the off button, Troy began rushing outside to find Jordana and Littlehands. Pushing through a growing sea of agitated fighters on high alert, Troy felt the impact of shoves and

knew he was going to be very bruised. No matter what, he needed to get to Merritt first. Troy raised a hand to his ever paling face and tried to remember where Merritt had

last been hanging around. Merritt could be anywhere, from the training rooms to his dorm to...outside! Feeling a surge of adrenaline, Troy expanded his gait and almost

tripped as he exited the door to the open grounds. _If only Merritt hadn't made that joke at Mercury, maybe he'd be safe right now..._ Feeling a panic oncoming, Troy began to

practice his breathing exercises and tried to remain calm.  _It's not like Mercury's men have had enough time to get him yet, that message was delivered only a few hours ago_

_and it takes several to get through security. Merritt is probably fine and probably has Pogo with him and I probably need to stop using the world probably in a sentence._

_Probably._

 

Troy kneeled down to catch his breath, and as soon as he began to relax he felt a sharp pain in his neck. What's this? Oh no...Troy's vision began to fade to black, but before

he could alert Samsid of the trap, he saw striking blonde hair and fair features looking down on him from above. No, it couldn't be...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH SNAP OH SNAP
> 
> It's ya girl 
> 
> Fergie
> 
> seriously how on earth am I not dead 2018 has been kickin' my ass 
> 
>  
> 
> thx for your patience y'all


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